


Night Shift

by mizzmarvel



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2376647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizzmarvel/pseuds/mizzmarvel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff's summer job isn't all bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Shift

Here’s a tip from a pro: It’s not really anyone’s first choice to work at Burger Town, but when it comes to vegetarians, it’s not even on the Top 100 Best Jobs list. But when you’re sixteen and need some extra cash—and it’s not really a closely guarded secret that you’ll be going back to California at the end of summer, closing off all the potential _decent_ jobs—you take what you can get. You try to make the most of it.

And you try to get out of most of it.

"Byron, change rotations with me?" I finished pinning my name tag—"JAFF"—to my chest, then tucked on my official Burger Town baseball cap. I’d cut off all my hair earlier in the summer, opting for a crew cut rather than subject myself to a hairnet. Put it all together, and I was a grade A dork.

Byron didn’t seem to think so, though; he gave me a lingering once-over before looking at me like I was insane. “Are you serious? I’m working the registers today.”

It was a tough call when it came to deciding the worst task rotation at Burger Town—janitorial? birthday parties? drive-thru?—but almost everyone agreed that the registers were probably the best. People were generally more polite when talking to you face-to-face, and at least you usually stayed pretty clean. It sure beat what I’d been assigned that day.

"I can’t work the kitchen," I whined. "I’m a vegetarian."

"I saw the shift schedule—they’ve got you on fries, not burgers."

"Which are cooked in animal fat!" Also, standing over a fryer had a way of making you feel greasy and smell potato-y, which was probably the more alarming part.

Byron crossed his arms, frowning a little. “I really don’t think they are.”

"But are you _sure_?” I widened my eyes to look as pleading as possible. “Come on—I’ll owe you one.”

His gaze met mine, and he seemed to get lost in it for a moment. I could tell he was wavering. “How big a one?”

I flashed a grin. “Real big.”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Go tell the manager we’re switching. I need to get the fryer going.”

Up front, I found Sandbourne, who was stuck paying his own way through writing school, going over the list of tonight’s specials.

"Hey," I told him. "Byron said I could switch rotations with him today. That cool?"

He didn’t even bother looking up. “From registers? That boy’s got it bad for you.”

"Yeah," I said with a shrug and a smile, and leaned over to reboot the register.

Later, after the dinner rush, I caught Byron in a break room, literally—I wrapped my arms around his waist and lassoed him in for a long, slow kiss. He smelled like french fries and tasted like salt, but somehow, I didn’t mind it on him. When the kiss broke, I licked my lips, and he laughed, not bothering to pull away.

"That better not count as my real big one," he said, but his eyes were dancing.

"No," I promised, reaching up to tug on the brim of his hat. "Just a free sample."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for daisybride on Tumblr!


End file.
